


The Choices We Made

by Kakumei16



Series: The Cera Chronicles [3]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-02-18 06:49:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21540157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kakumei16/pseuds/Kakumei16
Summary: Cera and Saniel get a lead on the Architect and talking darkspawn from Warden Commander Stroud of the Free Marches.  They go to Kirkwall to meet up and check it out, only to find that the past is never as far behind them as they believe.
Relationships: Anders/Female Hawke, Female Amell/Anders, Female Amell/Cullen Rutherford, Fenris/Female Mahariel (Dragon Age)
Series: The Cera Chronicles [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1141460
Comments: 3
Kudos: 4





	1. Ferelden Send Off

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, friends! We're on to the third installment of this series. Playing through DA:2, I had A LOT of head cannon and some very strong opinions on what took place in Kirkwall. How could I not through Cera and Saniel into the mix!? 
> 
> Chapters will vary view points in this one, so apologies in advance if you find it to be rather annoying. Some chapters just felt like they should be told from a certain character's perspective and, hint, it's not just Cera and Saniel...
> 
> Anyhow, I hope you've enjoy the series thus far and are looking forward to reading this next journey as I am to post it!

There was an abundance of hustle and bustle around the castle. Yes, the castle. Saniel and I had traveled to Denerim, along with Oghren, to participate in the annual festival, celebrating the Hero of Ferelden, the first Grey Warden to survive after slaying the archdemon. Alistair insisted so the country would never forget the Blight again. How many painful festivals had we had to sit through? Three? Four? Yes, it really was four... One thing had always made it bearable. Anders.

I sighed, tying the ribbon around the end of my braid. My hair had grown longer, my face older. In those years, the Architect had done exactly what he said he would do and disappeared. The darkspawn activity was low. I passed on the title of Arl of Amaranthine to Nathaniel Howe, which was well deserved and the city was more receptive to him, a non-mage, as well. Everything had been going so well, so what happened? I still wasn’t entirely sure, but it felt like I had been the cause and it was something I constantly beat myself up over.

"Cewah!" I looked over at the little girl running over to me, her blonde curls bouncing on her shoulders, blue eyes bright and shining. The little dear tripped over her own feet and tumbled to the ground. Her lip quivered. Her eyes began tearing. I shouldn't have been smiling, but she really was adorable. I walked over and picked her up, cradling her to me as she wrapped her little arms around my neck.

"It's all right, Diana. A scraped knee will be the least amount of pain in your life," I whispered in her ear and kissed the side of her head. She only sniffled, her tears suppressed for the time being. I bounced and rocked her to calm her more, pacing around the garden grounds for a moment. I could feel the presence of her father without seeing him. "Is your daddy just going to stand there and make me do all the work? Men. They're all lazy," I told the child. She giggled, no longer sad about her little fall. Her father _ tsked _ .

"Why must you be filling my daughter's head with your evil mage musings?" 

"Only because you were leading her down that path, majesty," I teased, turning to face King Alistair. We had repaired our friendship and nothing ever happened between us like it had the one night long ago in my study. It was almost like old times whenever I saw him. 

"Are you ready?"

"Of course," I replied, setting Diane back down. She began running and skipping around, staying close to her father and myself. "One last hurrah before the trip north."

"I'm still not quite sure why you are going alone."

"I won't be alone. Saniel is coming with me."

"The Free Marches are not particularly kind to mages or elves," he warned. I rolled my eyes.

"Alistair, Nathaniel has been in my ear about it since we received the letter; however, he needs to stay in Amaranthine. Having the most experience with the Architect, I must go and I trust Saniel explicitly. Stroud wrote and said he would meet us in Kirkwall since there has been an increase in darkspawn activity there."

"I'm just concerned. When things like this start to happen, it usually turns into something bigger," he replied then bent down to pick up Diane, who had been tugging on his pant leg. 

"I guess we'll find out. Either way, we'll have the wardens of the Free Marches so it's not like we'll be alone. We'll be okay. Promise. We always are." I walked over to Alistair, reaching out to ruffle Diana's hair before walking off, my deep eggplant colored robes grazing the ground behind me. 


	2. Cera: Welcome to Kirkwall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cera and Saniel arrive at Kirkwall's port, finding more than they anticipated.

_ Cera, my love,  
  
_

_ Words cannot express how much you have changed my life for the better. _

_ However, there is something I must do. I must leave Vigil's Keep and, regrettably, leave you. _

_ I hope you can understand. When I am done, I will return to you. I promise.  
  
_

_ Forever yours, _

_ Anders _

  
"Are you seriously looking at that letter again?" 

I looked up over the paper at my elven friend. With a sigh, I took my time folding the letter back. I had read it numerous times since I had woken up and seen it lying on the pillow beside me. The folds had worn the letter thin. 

Shortly after defeating the Mother, Anders began having nightmares. He barely slept and poured over books in the library. He grew more distant from me, from us. That went on for a while. I blamed myself. I shouldn't have tried to keep him tied down to me and the Wardens. I felt responsible for his leaving and it destroyed me. I had had a few years to move on, though I hadn't really. I had fallen deeper into my work, into the Wardens. And now I was leaving Ferelden. 

Saniel and I had set sail on a ship from Denerim toward Kirkwall where Stroud, a Warden of the Free Marches, would meet us. I had written to Stroud frequently, more so as of late due to the darkspawn sightings. One correspondence included a sighting of a talking darkspawn and another who sounded much like the Architect. It was that letter that set my mind to investigate the situation. The long ship ride was giving me too much time to think, which my companion clearly noticed.

"What else is there to do? Glare at the lechers looking our way?" I quipped, tucking the letter safely in my pack. 

"Let them try anything," Saniel dared. 

She flipped the side of her cloak back, revealing the Grey Warden emblem on her armor. If a mage and elf were going to be left alone, that would be the only thing that would stop people, or so we hoped. However, most people were rather stupid. I felt sorry for any who dared try anything with us.

We heard the call that we were near port, the two of us taking that opportunity to grab our packs and carry ourselves up on deck. The other passengers began to, as well, but I was too stunned by the canyon we were passing through. Large bronze statues lined the way, which were quite unnerving. Each statue was shaped as a person, their hands over their faces like they were crying, and collars around their necks. Nathaniel had explained the oppressive history of the Free Marches, Kirkwall in particular. Mages were extremely disliked, distrusted, and their Circle was far more strict than Kinloch Hold. I was not an apostate. I had no reason to be afraid, yet I couldn't help the apprehension that nestled in the pit of my stomach when we sailed beneath those statues.

The ship docked. Saniel and I followed the crowd off of the ship. Once on solid ground, we continued in line up wide stone steps, under a grand arch, and out to...I'm not sure where. More creepy statues were placed around, circling the large courtyard. The buildings looked beautiful, structured, and perhaps more pristine than those in Ferelden. The air smelled...different. I couldn’t say it was better than wet dog, but it wasn’t fresh, either.

We both looked for anyone wearing anything that resembled a Grey Warden uniform, but nothing. We had no map, no direction of where to go. Actually, the more I looked around, the worse I felt. 

"Why are there so many templars?" I asked Saniel quietly. I hadn't noticed when we first stepped off the ship, but there were at least a dozen templars standing around the courtyard, not counting those just walking around. There were also some mages, but not many. As one mage passed, my heart jumped into my throat. On his forehead was a red sun symbol. I swallowed and must have paled for Saniel to place her hand on my arm.

"Cera?"

"I'm fine,” I whispered.

It was just one, but seeing a tranquil wandering in a city unsettled me. In Kinloch Hold, if a mage was made tranquil, he or she would assist in tasks for the mages. They were not allowed to roam freely. No mages were, unless... 

I shook my head, taking a moment to breathe in deep. Deep breath in and back out. I was Cera Amell, Commander of the Grey Wardens of Ferelden. I was not a Circle mage. I was not an apostate. I was a Grey Warden. Still, I felt it best to remove my traveling cloak fully to reveal my Warden uniform. It wasn't the black armor I preferred, but blue striped as was standard. Saniel followed my lead, both of us tucking our cloaks into our packs. 

"I do not see this Stroud anywhere, not that we had much of a description to go from. Did he say where he would be?" Saniel questioned. 

"Not that I recall. I know we should ask someone,. but..." Only templars. I lifted my chin, walking over to one of the templars not far from us. He was tall with short blonde hair that had just the slightest bit of curl to it. "Excuse me. I am hoping you can help me and my companion," I said, using my most confident tone.  _ I am a commander _ , I kept repeating in my head. When the templar turned around, my eyes widened, as did his. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay with the holidays and such. It won't be much better around Christmas, so I'll take the time I can to post a couple chapters at a time. 
> 
> Next chapter introduces a new viewpoint, too...


	3. Cullen: Reintroductions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Out of all times for Cera to show up, why in Kirkwall and why now?

Never again did I think I would see those large violet eyes staring back up at me. It brought me back to that single moment all those years ago where I made a decision that forever changed me, though looking back, I had a terrible way of showing it. Her raven hair was longer, pulled back in a loose braid that left strands hanging around her face. She wasn't wearing the robes I remembered, but a uniform, one I had seen on Wardens as they passed through Kirkwall. An unexpected urge to reach out to her welled up inside, but I quelled it. Despite my feelings, she was a mage and I was still a templar. Her surprise hardened. It was a look of discontent that I had never seen directed at me before, despite what I had done to her the last time we met. 

"We are looking for the nearest inn," Cera harshly stated. Her companion, the feisty little elf, glared daggers at me. I couldn't blame her for doing so, either.

"Cera..." Her name rolled off my tongue. 

It had been quite some time since I had said it out loud, yet she was in my thoughts every day and my dreams at night; a secret I kept to myself. As she looked up at me, her chin raised, I noticed the little scar on her neck where my sword had pierced her. Thinking of that moment clenched my heart with regret. My actions were inexcusable. It was one of the reasons Gregoir had sent me to Kirkwall. He had felt that the Ferelden mages were not safe under my watch.

"Knight-Captain," one of my men walked over to us, warily sizing up Cera. 

"Keran," I addressed him. "Have you taken the names of the other ship passengers?"

"Yes, sir," the young man handed me a piece of parchment and then he left. I turned back to the Wardens.

"Due to recent events in the city, we are documenting all who enter. I will need your name," I directed my question to the elf. I already knew Cera's name, yet she spoke up anyway.

"Cera, Commander of the Grey Wardens. Are we to expect trouble during our stay?"

"Preferably not, yet these are trying times," I replied, carefully scripting down her name and title. "What business have the Grey Wardens here in the city?"

"Grey Warden business. You answered your own question,  _ Knight-Captain _ ," she spat my title. I cringed. "How many mages did you kill to get that title?" Whether she meant it or not, I was appalled by her question. The moment I looked up, her face flushed and she looked away. "My apologies."

"And your name?" I asked the elf again.

"Saniel, Captain of the Grey Wardens," she responded curtly. 

"There is a small ship that will take you to the mainland. The most popular inn is in Lowtown and called The Hanged Man, though I would be wary. Many unsavory people gather there. There might also be accommodations in Hightown, but The Hanged Man might be your best bet," I tried to explain to her, wishing I had a map to provide. Kirkwall was in turmoil and mages seemed to be having the most difficult time. "Will you be staying here long?"

"Depends," Cera replied, looking more sheepish than before. Did she feel bad about her comment? I wanted to talk to her. I felt it necessary, but would she agree?

"There is something I would like to speak with you about, Commander." That seemed to get her attention. She peered up at me. "Though this is not the place to do so."

"What is this place? It's crawling with templars and this is where the boats first dock?"

"As I explained, there has been trouble as of late. We are taking as many precautions as we can," I couldn't say anymore to her on what exactly had been going on. Tensions were rising between mage and templar. That was only the beginning. "This is the Gallows, home of the Kirkwall Circle and Templar Order."

Her look said it all about how she felt. I guess she was as uncomfortable about the weeping slave statues as I was. But that was just a guess. I had many thoughts about the goings on in Kirkwall, none that I could voice. Knight-Commander Meredith had changed, though I didn't know why. She had become a tyrant and the uprise in tranquils made even me uncomfortable. Most of those mages didn't deserve it. At some point since my time in Kirkwall, I saw the light of what Cera fought for. It had become hard for me to see after Uldred's destruction of Kinloch Hold. The torture... I cleared my throat, which brought me back to focus on the mage I had been so fond of for so long. 

"You should have no problems with the templars. If anything comes up, please let me know and I will handle it," I asked of her. While she didn't have reason to trust me, I certainly hoped she would. She hesitated, looking at me warily. I sighed, waiting for another verbal punch. Her mouth opened slightly then closed again. 

"...Thank you, Cullen," she replied softly. "Perhaps when my business is finished, we can speak."

"I would like that very much." It came out before I could stop myself. Thankfully her elven friend pulled her away toward the dock. Cera looked back over her shoulder. What was it about her that drew me in? Even after Uldred's torture where I saw a desire demon wearing her face, her body, approaching me in such a manner that roused my being. Knowing it was a trick, I had been utterly disgusted and seeing her face only reminded me of those times. Now, though... Now I felt like I had in the tower back when she was an apprentice and I was newly sworn into the Order. But we were no longer those children. Time had changed us both and she was an exquisite woman. I only hoped that she wouldn't get into trouble here in Kirkwall. There was only so much I could do with the current situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's everyone's favorite templar!!! I absolutely adore Cullen's character and his development throughout the Dragon Age series. They did such a wonderful job with him and him being a romance option in DAI? Uh...thank you, Bioware. Much appreciation.
> 
> That being said, I'm not super pleased with this chapter. Is he being too sentimental? Perhaps, but I feel that he would be in that head space. There was a definite change between DAO and DA2 with him. Still all business? Totally, but his conscious returned throughout the game. Besides, the mind can be a tricky thing, me thinks.
> 
> Anyhow, thanks for reading and comments are always welcome. What are you enjoying? What would you like to see a little different? Constructive criticism is a plus.


	4. Saniel: The Reunions Keep Coming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Wardens are taken someplace to stay for the night before heading off to the Deep Roads.

"I think I have been on enough ships to last a lifetime," I muttered. The trip was not nearly as long as it was from Ferelden to Kirkwall, but the water was rougher on the smaller ship. My legs felt rubbery, worse when we were back on solid land. My hand grazed over the hilt of my dagger. The _shemlen_ faces we passed at the docks were lecherous. Some leered as us, others snickered and nodded at one another. Pigs. All of them. It did not help that Cera was preoccupied with what happened in the Gallows. The damned _shem_ who once attempted to assassinate her. I did not like him. I felt that Cera was in more danger from that, not just because she was a mage.

"It's not so bad," she replied, barely paying attention to our surroundings. I glared at her, not that she noticed. 

"Perhaps to you. Now, what is our course of action? I still see no signs of this Warden Stroud and you had only asked that templar where an inn was. If I am not mistaken, we do not need an inn?"

"Well, if we can't find Stroud we will need an inn. Do you see anyone?" she asked, stopping and finally taking a look around. She was taller than I and could see farther. However, I caught a glimpse of blue and white stripes not far from our location. She must have seen it, too, since she tapped my arm with the back of her hand. "Over there." We did not even need to move. The man approached us first.

"Commander Amell?" the man asked. He was young. Very young. His face was smooth, adorned by stern blue eyes. His black hair was cut short, jaw square. 

"Commander Stroud?" Cera returned. The man shook his head.

"No. I am Carver Hawke. Commander Stroud sent me to meet you and lead you to the Deep Roads. There was a situation that he needed to personally attend to," Carver responded. 

"Pleasure to meet you, Carver. This is Saniel, my captain," she introduced me. He bowed his head in greeting. I did not budge. "Please, lead the way to the Deep Roads."

He shook his head. "The sun will be down before we reach the entrance. We will leave in the morning."

"Dark never scared me, Carver."

"Perhaps it should. Kirkwall is far different from Ferelden, Commander. More than mere bandits, there are organizations that stalk the streets. Some are particularly interested in mages. After your long journey, I believe it is best for you to rest tonight."

"Alright then. We were told of an inn called The Hanged Man. We can stay there," Cera continued. The warden whelp's face twisted in dislike. That was obviously not his favorite location.

"My mother has an estate in Hightown. There are plenty of rooms there and it would be safer. For both of you."

"I would rather pay my way," Cera argued. I rolled my eyes. I was exhausted from the travel and my friend's constant banter with men in Kirkwall, it seemed. 

"My mother is an Amell," Carver stated. I looked between the two as Cera sputtered.

"And what is that supposed to mean to me? It is a common name."

"Not really. I was told we were cousins of sorts, myself and the Grey Warden Commander of Ferelden. You look like my sister, actually. Please, follow me," he said. 

Before Cera could say another word, I grabbed her arm and pulled her along. When Carver turned, I noticed the large bastard sword sheathed on his back. Those swords required a lot of strength to wield. I could admire that.

Hightown was the farthest place from the docks. We passed through the streets of Lowtown, which were vast. It smelled like waste. It was dirty. The people looked more miserable than they had in Ferelden. Although I had not been there for long, I was not fond of Kirkwall. Eventually we climbed the stairs to Hightown. Kirkwall loved their stairs. Shopkeepers packed up their stalls, nobles frolicked about in the main square, guards were posted in all corners of the city, (and there were many corners). Carver navigated us through the stone streets without issue all the way to a large door. The doors were taller than I had ever seen. He did not knock. He just opened it up and stepped back for us to enter. I did so hesitantly, letting Cera go before me.

The estate entry had a bench to the side and a long, narrow, red rug leading from the front door to the estate's main entry. Carver led us to the main room, where voices were coming from. It was quite the gathering that fell silent upon our entry. 

An older woman put her hands to her cheek, crying out, "Carver!", as she ran to him and hugged him tight. He looked uncomfortable with that action. Behind them was a woman who really did look similar to Cera, although the woman's hair was shorter and her eyes a different color. Still, it was in the structure of their faces that I noticed it most. Then there was a dwarf. Joy. This one was different, however. He did not have a beard at all. His short dark blonde hair was pulled back and he was...smirking. It was most unsettling. 

"Are these our guests that will be staying with us?" Cera's look-alike asked. The woman spoke eloquently, another difference from my friend.

"Yes, Milena," Carver untangled himself from,l who I guess was his mother. "This is the Ferelden Commander Cera Amell and the Ferelden Captain..." Had he already forgotten my name? Stupid _shem_. 

"Saniel," I replied curtly. He narrowed his eyes at me. I returned the favor. That is, before I saw the other person pushing her way to the front of the crowd. I did not know whether I was going to be ill or cry. The emotions just hit me at seeing her face. 

"...Merrill?" Her name came out as barely a whisper. My throat tightened. I could not breathe.

"By the spirits," Merrill sputtered out, stopping right in front of me. She was just as I remembered. "Are you really here?" she continued, reaching out to touch my cheek. I did not like people in my personal space, but Merrill was from my clan. She had been the Keeper's First, meaning she would have taken over the clan when the Keeper passed. Tamlen had been good friends with Merrill. I swallowed hard, but could not speak. I feared I would cry if I did so and I would not cry in front of those people.

"You know each other?" Cera asked. I nodded. Merrill wrapped her arms around me, hugging me tight. I brought my own arms around her in return. It was the closest I had been to home since the day I was taken away by Duncan.


	5. Wait. Who?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saniel and Merrill catch up. Cera joins the card game and meets the gang.

"I was not aware your Diamondback game had migrated from The Hanged Man to here," Carver quipped. 

Everyone was sitting around the long dining table after introductions were made, as well as reunions. Merrill had immediately begun chatting Saniel's ear off and they had remained in the main room to speak. Cera retreated to the dining hall with the others to play a game of Diamondback after Carver's mother went to her room. The most pleasant surprise Cera had was seeing Bodahn and Sandal, the dwarves that traveled with them during the Blight. Bodahn now worked at the Hawke estate and Sandal still created his enchantments. 

"Just for the night. You weren't the only one wanting to meet the Heroes of Ferelden," Milena shared. There had been a brief discussion of Cera's family line, but it ended rather quickly. Cera didn't know her parents. She knew her surname, but that was the extent of it and she didn't feel it necessary to dwell.

"Are we expecting the others?"

"The broody elf should be here shortly," Varric piped up. "Blondy 'has things to do'," he even emphasized with air quotes, "and Red is doing what she does." Cera looked around, hoping for some clarification on who 'blondy', 'the broody elf', and ‘Red’ were. Nobody said anything. So she waited and listened until she could hear Bodahn speaking to someone in the main entrance.

Saniel, who was sitting by the fireplace with Merrill, also looked up at the voices near the entrance. She watched the newcomer walk into the main hall. He was unlike any other elf she had ever seen. He was tall and along his tanned skin were glowing tattoos starting at his chin and going everywhere - his arms, hands, feet. His hair was even white but his eyes were a vibrant emerald color, much like her own. He scowled at Merrill and continued on into the dining hall. 

"Who was that?" Saniel questioned her clan mate. Merrill sighed heavily and shrugged her shoulders.

"Oh, that's just Fenris. He's always grouchy about everything."

"What is on his skin? Is he Dalish?"

"No, not Dalish. He was a slave from Tevintar. Escaped, of course. Still running, kind of. His old master infused his skin with lyrium. He has some incredible abilities."

"And why does he not seem fond of you?" the redheaded elf asked, though didn’t feel it was necessary. Merrill was difficult to love. She was flighty, overly studious, and clingy. She made the worst decisions with the best intentions, which was just infuriating, and she was unsure of herself in many facets of her life. Saniel had never been close to Merrill. She spent time with her because of Tamlen. Tamlen adored Merrill like a sister. His death hit everyone hard, but Saniel knew if affected Merrill similar to her. 

"Oh." Her fellow Dalish began stuttering at that point. What was she not saying?   
  
"Well?"

"Just a difference of opinions. And magic. I use magic. He hates magic. Differences. He's just sullen."

"I see. Will he try anything with Cera?"

"I don't believe so. He has even come to terms with Hawke's use of magic, as well as Anders, though those two do not get along at all."

"What?" Saniel's eyes widened at the name. Anders was there? Was it the same person she knew? "Anders?" she repeated, more softly.

"Yes. Anders. He owns a clinic in Darktown. He said he ran from the wardens due to cruel treatment..." And she went on. That was one good thing. Merrill was terrible at withholding information. Saniel tried to digest it all. It was Anders. Cera's Anders. He was there in the city, lying about his treatment in the wardens and for what? She knew she should've told Cera. It would have been so easy but was it the best thing to do? It took Cera a long time to recover from receiving that letter from him. Then again, if Tamlen had been alive and himself in another city, would she have wanted someone to tell her?

***

"Fenris, you made it!" Milena Hawke, or just Hawke as the others referred to her, exclaimed when the tall elf entered. He half-smirked and took a seat beside Varric. The smirk died when he saw Cera.

"Another mage?" he asked Hawke, the scowl returning.

"A cousin, actually, so be nice," Hawke responded. Varric went ahead dealing the cards after they all put a few sovereigns in the pot.

"And a grey warden," Varric spoke up in defense. Cera smiled and nodded, though she felt a little uncomfortable under Fenris' stare. 

"Friend of Anders'?" he asked. The others spoke again but all other noise drowned from Cera's ears.   
  
"What?" the warden mage sputtered. The room fell silent and they looked at her. "Anders? You said Anders? Where is he?" she asked, looking around at their faces. Nobody answered her but then there was a voice from behind.  
  
"A clinic in Darktown," Saniel said from the doorway.   
  
"Why do you need to see Anders?" Hawke stood up, taking on a defensive stance. Cera mimicked her.  
  
"That is my business and my business alone." The mage looked around, mostly at Hawke. What did he say to them? "I'm not going to hurt him, if that's what you're thinking."  
  
"He doesn't want to go back to the wardens."  
  
"And I'm not here to take him. Please," Cera tried again. Should she have been worried about how cautious Hawke was being with her? Or offended?  
  
"There's a shortcut through the cellar. I'll show you," Carver finally spoke up and nodded toward a door. Cera wasted no time to follow, as did Saniel.  
  
"Carver, what are you doing?"  
  
"They are curious, dear sister, and since I am now a warden myself, I feel it's my duty to follow the Commander's orders. Not yours," he retorted. Nobody else followed, at least as far as Saniel and Cera could tell.   
  
Just as Carver promised, the deepest part of the cellar led right to outside the Darktown clinic. Was it possible for Darkspawn to smell worse than bodily waste? No? Then one had never visited Darktown.   
  
"He's right through those doors, or at least that's where he stays," he pointed to the doors off to the side. The only light was a lantern above the door.  
  
"Go ahead, Cera. I will stay here with Carver, but if there is any trouble, yell. I will be right in," Saniel pushed her ahead. Cera took a deep breath, shook her hands, and turned toward the doors. One step at a time, each one filling her head with thoughts. Was it him? What did he look like? Was he okay? How would he react?  
  
 _No time like the present_ , she thought to herself and pushed the door open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helllloooooo. It's been quite a long time and with all the craziness 2020 has dished out, I'm sure y'all are feeling it, too (some more than others, I'm sure). But I'm ready to get back into this posting thing and hope to do this regularly again.


	6. Anders: My Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders has a visitor at his clinic, one he had not anticipated. How is Justice going to react to see the Commander again?

My last patient had left shortly ago, giving me time to sit in the quiet of my clinic and home in Darktown. Hawke wanted me to join them for a game of Diamondback, but not tonight. My thoughts were more muddled than normal. It was getting worse, no matter what I tried. The only person who seemed to silence him and keep me afloat was Hawke. 

Nobody was there with me, just the nagging voice. I had changed out of my clothes, washed away the grime from the day, and had put on my tunic and pants. I splashed water onto my face, rubbing my face with my hands, then dragging them through my short hair. I had cut it upon my arrival in Kirkwall and it was just long enough to pull back with a tie. Using my sleeve, I wiped the water from my face. That was about the time I heard the door open. 

"We're closed," I called back over my shoulder and listened. The door did close, but the person had not left. I heard the soft shuffle of footsteps, just a few. A prickling sensation worked its way up the back of my neck. It was a sign of discomfort from my internal friend. "I said, we're closed," I repeated more forcefully as I turned around. 

"...Anders...?" 

I gawked at the woman standing mere feet from me. The only person I had truly loved, that I had run from out of shame for what I had done. I promised to return to her, but my journey was far from over, yet there she was. The Maker had a sense of humor, or knew that she was what I needed right then. Cera. My darling Cera. 

I had played out that moment in my head numerous times. I imagined her anger as she lashed out at me for leaving. Her tears for how I left. While her eyes glistened, no anger crossed them. No. She ran to me, her hand reaching up to cup my cheek, bringing my face to hers. Our lips crashed together. She didn't stop there. Her momentum had us stumbling back, first into the wash basin, and then into the wall. Our tongues tangled. Her delicate hands gripped my hair then dropped, running right up under my shirt. I growled into her mouth, firmly planting my hands on her backside, pulling her into me as I turned us around so she was against the wall. 

Years. It had been years since I had seen her and within seconds my body responded in only the way she could make it. I wanted to get lost in the moment. In her. I wanted to feel her, to know she was real. I broke from her lips to attack her neck, biting and sucking my way down to her shoulder. Her raspy whisper of my name nearly unraveled me. I was almost gone. But he would never let me rest, would he? No, of course not. I would never be allowed to have that pleasure again, would I? It started as a nagging in the base of my skull, pushing forward. I felt myself slipping as he tried to bring himself forth. “ _ She must pay _ !” he demanded.

I pushed away from Cera as violently as we had met, both of us breathing ragged. I closed my eyes, clamping my hands to my head. Moving away from her calmed him enough to allow me to maintain control for the time being, but he was pissed. I had a feeling that was going to happen. Damn him! And damn me. I ruined the best thing I had because of one asinine decision. There had to be a way to fix it. There just had to be...

"Anders?" Cera asked. I carefully looked up at her, dropping my hands when he fully relinquished control for the time being. She reached out toward me. I stepped back. I couldn't risk getting close to her again. "What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry. I just... What are you doing here?" I wanted to distract her. 

"Stroud requested my presence. What's wrong?" She wasn't going to give up. Stubborn like a mabari, that one.

"Warden business. Of course. ...Nothing's wrong, Cera. I just can't-" 

As if reading my mind, the clinic door opened again, bringing in the noises of an argument. Hawke with her brother barking at her heels. She wasn't paying attention to Carver. She smiled at me, looking relieved. I returned a smirk then looked over at Cera. She wasn't smiling. She looked between Hawke and me then nodded. 

"I see," Cera said. Her lips tightened into a thin line. I knew that sign. She was very upset, the brink of fury and weeping. She had it wrong with me and Hawke. There was nothing between us on a romantic level, not really. Yet I couldn't bring myself to argue about it. I wanted to touch Cera. I wanted to hold her and tell her everything was fine. I wanted to protect her from the darkspawn and all other evils we came across. I wanted to love her...but I couldn't. Not yet. And if that meant pushing her away until I figured it out, then that was what needed to happen, no matter how it hurt us. 

"I'm glad to see you alive, Anders," she said, wiping her bottom lip as she brushed past us. That's when I saw Saniel, looking displeased as usual. 

They left. Saniel, Carver, and Cera. She slammed the door behind her, feeding my guilt. I stumbled over to my desk stool and sat down, dropping my head into my hands. "I almost lost control," I whispered to Hawke. I could see her shadow as she knelt beside me and felt her hand on my arm. 

"But you didn't."

"It was closer than I would have preferred." And that was the truth of it. If I had hurt Cera, I doubted I could live with myself. "He has rather strong opinions of her."

"That clash with your own, I presume," Hawke pointed out. I dropped my hands and looked over at her. So many things about her reminded me of Cera but they were so very different. Milena's face was rounder, her eyes a brilliant blue. Cera and Milena both held different ideals of magic and the Chantry. Maybe that's why he preferred her over Cera. But I didn't. 

"Of course."

"Perhaps you should tell her."

"No!" I snapped, pulling my arm from her touch. That one word was accompanied by a moment where I saw nothing but black. My eyes refocused on Hawke's wide eyed stare. Shit. 

"Perhaps not," she then stated and stood, brushing the dirt from her clothes. "You need to get some rest. We have an early day tomorrow. Aveline would like to speak with us first thing."

"Of course. Goodnight, Hawke." I watched her leave, wishing I had a drink or five to numb the pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i apI can't promise the frequent updates all the time. I'm going to shoot for once a week, but I much like this chapter. I am definitely taking liberties with inserting my wardens into DA2's world and I am not sorry about it at all. I recently repurchased DA2, but for my PC this time (with all DLC) since my XBox just....won't anymore. I'm anticipating this to bring much inspiration to keep this going so we can get to..... You guessed it. Inquisition!!!!
> 
> I appreciate you for reading this and comments/constructive criticism is always welcome and appreciated. Big thanks to you, you delightful folx!


	7. Saniel: The Favors Start Already

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warden duties and, of course, those that need help otherwise. What else would there be for them to do? Hawke approaches Cera and Saniel for aid with a young mage that's plagued by demons.

Three weeks in the Deep Roads was long enough. Not quite reminiscent of our time in Orzammar, but close enough. After our eventful first day in Kirkwall, we had followed Carver to the entrance of the Deep Roads. From there, we ventured down and met with Stroud and some fellow Wardens. They were tracking the talking darkspawn. Unfortunately, our endeavors left us empty handed and covered in blood. No talking darkspawn. No Architect. The plan was to reconvene in a few week's time. 

Stroud requested that we travel to their home, but Cera did not wish to. I did not, either. Not after learning my clan was closer to Kirkwall. Carver offered the estate once more, but we declined that, as well. We decided to stay at The Hanged Man, a dirty little inn in Lowtown.

We settled into the small room, hiding our packs. I changed out of my Warden uniform, sick of donning it, and took my time putting on my Dalish armor. Knowing my clan was close had me thinking of finding them. Cera had the same philosophy of getting out of that blue striped armor, but put on her black armor instead. Still not my choice, but who knew what she was looking to do. She had not said too much on a personal level after she had found Anders. In the Deep Roads, my companion only spoke of Grey Warden dealings and barely cracked a smile. It was odd. I did not like it, but said nothing. Not being one who liked others poking around in my business, I tended to stay out of theirs. 

We had only back for a day when Hawke approached us outside of The Hanged Man. More like Cera was approached by Hawke. The tension between the two was palpable, but the situation on hand was one I knew my friend connected to on a personal level. There was a young mage, Feynriel, who had trouble with hearing 'voices'. Hawke urged him to go to the Circle and now Feynriel was trapped in a nightmare. Before traveling with Cera, I would have had no clue what that meant. Now I knew. He was being tormented by demons and Hawke had agreed to go into the Fade to try to help him. I listened to the conversation quietly, knowing this was no concern of mine.

"And how do you propose to help him? It's a very delicate situation, especially if a demon doesn't have a hold on him," Cera asked. She was methodical in her questioning. Strictly business. 

"Keeper Marethari of the Dalish clan knows the ritual to send us into the Fade. She could explain more in private, where it might be safer to discuss such things. I would prefer to have fellow mages at my side. One never knows how others might fare with demons," Hawke replied. Hearing the Keeper's name perked my pointy ears.

"It depends on the will of the person. Am I safe to assume that Anders will be going, as well?"

"Yes. He is my best asset for this sort of situation. I was also going to invite Merrill along."

"No," I interjected, whether it was my place or not. 

Cera and Hawke looked over at me, the same curious expression resting on their faces. Both women had their hair pulled back and, except for the color of their eyes, it was strange how much they looked alike. 

"Merrill is curious. Very curious, but she is also easily influenced. I never would have second guessed her doing such things, but having dealt with demons myself, I do not think it wise," I explained. Cera nodded in understanding. Hawke...not so much.

"She seems pretty firm in her beliefs to me. She has dealt with demons herself."

"In what way?" Cera looked back at her cousin. The blue-eyed mirror image tilted her head, as thought she was calculating her response. What did she not want to say?

"She's a mage, Cera. She deals with them just as we do." That was not the answer Cera wanted, yet she let it slide. 

"I believe it is something that you, Anders, and myself can handle just fine. Saniel knows Merrill better than either of us and if she is concerned, so am I. The Fade is no place to play games,” Cera said. 

I nodded in gratitude at the commander. 

"All right, then. It will just be us. This way," Hawke said and we followed her through the streets of Lowtown to the Alienage. 

I never understood why an elf would ever want to stay in the city, especially when they were forced to live in a dirty, run down area of town. The most beautiful thing in an Alienage was the  _ vhenadahl _ , or the tree of the people as it was called. The tree in this particular Alienage was massive, stretching up far beyond the city walls and was surrounded with lanterns that emanated a blue light. How peaceful.

" _ Da'len _ ," I heard from behind me. I knew that wise, old voice and I smiled as I turned to face Marathari, Keeper of the Sabrae clan - my clan. My first instinct was to hug her, but that was never appropriate where the Keeper was concerned, so I bowed my head respectfully instead.

"Keeper," I acknowledged her, glancing up to see her smile warmly at me, nodding in return. I straightened up. 

"You have had quite the journey," she said, reaching out to me. I stayed still, holding my breath as her finger touched Tamlen's acorn shaped pendant hanging around my neck. Yes, I still wore it all of the time. "Please, join us inside. We will have time to talk later."

I followed without another word, stepping inside Feynriel's childhood home. His mother was panic stricken to the side, surrounded by a few people who I remembered as Hawke's companions. Anders stood beside Hakwe, fidgeting uncomfortably as he averted looking at Cera. She said nothing to him in return. Marethari led them into one of the rooms and closed the door, stating that they needed privacy for the ritual. As much as I did not wish to stay inside the home, I did, feeling I needed to be close in case Cera needed me. 

My eyes roamed over Hawke's companions. The dwarf relaxed in one of the rickety wooden chairs. Merrill smiled at me while she paced across the floor and, leaning back against the wall near the main door, was the elf Merrill claimed to be a former slave. He was watching me, probably as uncomfortable with my presence as I was with being in that small house.

"Did you truly slay the archdemon?" he finally asked, his deep voice sliding out like silk. I did not like that question. I never liked that question for the mere fact that I did not feel like a hero. I felt guilty for having cheated a death that belonged to me. The gods would not be forgiving of that, even though it was not my choice. That did not answer his question, though. He wanted to know if I had done it. 

"Yes." 

"Impressive." That was his response, accompanied by what sounded like a snicker to me. Was he mocking me? I narrowed my eyes and turned away, looking back toward the door those mages had gone off to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I'm pretty sure I previously noted, there were many times throughout DA2 that I thought, "What if the warden was there?". That's clearly the theme of this fic, but seriously. It's like Bioware was just teasing me the whole game...


	8. Cera: An Abomination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cera, Hawke, and Anders enter the fade to help Feynriel, but instead of Anders, Cera comes face to face with Justice.

One moment, I was in Feynriel's home. The next I was in a place that was both strange and far too familiar. The wistful, pale pallor of the Fade was not something I missed. Dreams were one thing. Going there for a purpose was another, and an unpleasant one at that. First it had been a sloth demon in Kinloch Hold. The second was in the Blackmarsh. This time was to save a young, foolish mage...or I had originally thought him to be foolish. 

Before performing the ritual, the Dalish Keeper explained to us that Feynriel was what the Dalish called a 'sleeper'. These were mages with superior powers, able to control the Fade as they willed it; however, that also made them demon magnets. Most died shortly after their magical abilities showed, unable to handle a demonic possession. I did not envy any who was a 'sleeper'. Not at all.

It took a moment to adjust to my surroundings. The ground never felt quite firm and even moving my hand felt like it was going in slow motion, like being underwater. 

"So where exactly has this Feynriel put us?" I asked, finally looking over to Hawke and Anders, but Anders was...glowing? His eyes crackled with a blueish-white light, almost blinding to look at. His face and hands also had glowing cracks in them. What was going on?

"I had not thought to return in such a way," he spoke.  _ It _ spoke. That wasn’t Anders. That wasn’t his voice. "It is good to feel the breath of the Fade again, not the empty air of your world." 

My heart stopped. Please, Maker, tell me I was dreaming. 

"...Anders?" I don't know why I asked. I didn't need to. Both my head and my heart knew what was going on and it killed me. 

"Commander," Justice's voice boomed when he looked at me. 

"What have you done?" The words just barely squeezed themselves out of my throat.

"Resolving situations you are incapable of doing," he retorted, looking straight ahead down the hallway we were in. Hawke stayed silent. She knew about it. She had to have and I could have just strangled her for not having a problem with it. "Come. I sense Feynriel's mind straining. We will not have much time," Justice ordered us along. He moved forward. I stepped in front of Hawke before she got far.

"You knew," I said. 

"Now is not the time," my supposed cousin stepped to the side and brushed past me. I let her. She was right. We needed to help Feynriel. I could murder them both after.

According to Hawke, Feynriel's mind was stuck inside the Kirkwall Circle. I didn't know what was worse. Kinloch Hold's unending circular hallways or the Kirkwall Circle's sterile feel. The poor boy was lost in a desire demon and a pride demon. We destroyed them both in separate rooms then returned to the main hall. The boy was there. He was pacing as we approached. Hawke was calm, but I was looking around for demons.

"I can't spend another moment in this place. The screaming! Everywhere, all I hear are the nightmares of people dying, fleeing, gnawing their own arms off to escape!" Feynriel exclaimed, clutching at his head. He eventually noticed us, stopping in place and dropping his arms. "This is a world of monsters. And they all want me! Please, help me escape. Help me die!"

"If I kill you here, I will only destroy your mind. You will become a Tranquil," Hawke explained calmly. Her face remained relaxed, her voice soothing. Justice stood silently nearby. He didn't have anything to say on the matter? He certainly had plenty to tell me I was doing wrong every time we were in the same room.

"I was afraid of that for so long. I can't remember why," Feynriel sighed. “To live, to sleep without dreaming, to never hear a demon's whisper--it is a blessing as great as standing at the Maker's side. Do it! Put the knife in my heart," he continued to beg her. 

She hesitated but eventually obliged, walking around to his back, pulling out a knife, and stabbing him from behind. The boy smiled at me as I watched. He wanted to become Tranquil. His acceptance had my mind going back to the moment that Jowan told me he would be made Tranquil. The panic in his eyes...yet there was none for Feynriel. He was accepting of his fate. He embraced it. And when Hawke severed his connection to the Fade, we were sent back to our bodies.

***

Could I lay on the floor forever with my eyes shut? I wanted to. If I opened my eyes, it would all be real. Justice was inside Anders. Anders was housing Justice. Inside his body and head. He was an abomination. I squeezed my eyes shut more as my throat tightened. Would they be gone when I opened my eyes? I hoped so considering I could feel the tears squeeze out and run down my cheeks. 

"Cera?"

They weren't gone. I shouldn't look. I couldn't look. I wouldn't look. 

"Cera..." A rough, timid hand brushed across my cheek and I instinctively smacked it away, opening my eyes so I could see where to move to get away. The room was empty, save for Anders or Justice or whoever it was. My head protested my rapid movement when I sat up, throbbing at my temples. 

"Do not touch me," I growled, pointing at him for good measure. 

"Please, Cera, let me explain-"

"Do not speak to me." I used the wall to help me to my feet. He flinched back. Good. I wanted him to hurt as much as he hurt me. 

Anders stayed crouched on the ground, looking at the floor, and I walked around him. Saniel looked up when I entered the room and began to follow, but I held up my hand, barely giving her a second look. 

"Do not follow me." My words were curt and I left. I didn't want to be around any of them. I didn't want to see Hawke and her stupid companions. I didn't want Saniel to silently follow me around like some bodyguard I didn't need. I wished to be back at Kinloch Hold, still an apprentice with Jowan and not a care in the world. To go to class to learn and goof off in the hallways until Gregoir disciplined us and threatened to put us in solitary. For First Enchanter Irving to swoop in and promise to give us a suitable punishment for our childish crimes...like mopping the floors on every level. I sniffled at the memory, earning weird looks from the Lowtown folk. 

I hadn't had a destination in mind, not really. I had only wanted to get away, letting my feet take me where they would. And that was how I ended up exactly where I shouldn't have gone. Waiting outside a door just like I used to when waiting to speak with Irving. I was ushered in all the same, too, but Irving wasn't behind that desk. That didn't stop my nerves when the door shut behind me, though. I felt like a Circle mage all over again. 

"Sorry for intruding, Cullen. When I first arrived, you said you wanted to speak to me."


End file.
